


Into the Forest

by madswithhands



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Doctor Reader - Freeform, Drider Tarantulas, F/M, General creepiness of Tarantulas, Hunter Prowl, Slow Burn, Threats of Bodily Harm, snarky back and forth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madswithhands/pseuds/madswithhands
Summary: My beautiful beta as always is Cieltee22 from Tumblr <3 <3I was inspired by Shapeofmetal's(18+) Drider Tarantulas picture, and so this fic came from it
Relationships: Tarantulas/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	1. It started with yarrow...

**Author's Note:**

> My beautiful beta as always is Cieltee22 from Tumblr <3 <3
> 
> I was inspired by Shapeofmetal's(18+) Drider Tarantulas picture, and so this fic came from it

You'd only heard stories of what laid in the forest that borders the west side of your village.

The forest, which had towering trees too tall to even see the top of their branches as they kissed the clouds above, was rumored to have dark things lurking about within it. Monsters, the stories go, that you could only scarcely imagine. Your momma would often hush you when you asked more of what was in the forest. Was it small, like you? Did it want to play? Was it lonely, hungry even?

Your papa had let out a silly roar, causing you to giggle. 

'He's very hungry, little one. But your papa will protect you from becoming his next meal,' your papa said, his voice trying to hide a laugh as momma softly glared at him.

'No more talk of monsters, little one. Bed time.' You had whined at her words, but your momma’s word was practically the law, even to papa.

Despite the fact that your momma and papa wouldn’t tell you much about the forest and its mysteries, your interest in it held onto your mind like a falcon onto a mouse. It gripped tightly, filling your wildest dreams with whatever you could imagine so as to fill that void of ‘what.’ 

And then, as you grew, you learned about the marriages that took place before every Spring.

As a youngster, the prospect of being married to the one you loved was merely a dream where you would be held and cherished, just like your momma and papa were. But your momma told you that this kind of marriage was different. If you were chosen, you could not refuse. 

You had never quite understood why the chosen girl cried, burying her face in her momma's shawl and begged for there to be another to take her place. Your own momma had all but pushed you into her dress, thin lips trembling as you tried to watch the weeping girl as she was pushed into a cart and taken to her beloved. 

You just couldn’t grasp why the girl was so upset. Maybe it's the pre-marital jitters your sister, Margot, had told you about. 

But Margot was gone, gone like the wind when summer had come with her own beloved. Even though her letters had started strong, they dwindled as you grew older. Your momma had said one day you'd get to see Margot again, but now wasn't the time. You remembered that she had said this with sad eyes and a smile that felt cold.

You learned to never bring up Margot again.

But as seasons changed, so did you.

You grew to want to look into the darkness instead of look away. You wanted to stray from the beaten path set before you by your momma and papa, so that you could uncover those mysteries you had long fawned over. Books of horticulture soon lined your shelves, as well as the medical texts you'd been given from the old healer you studied under. The prospect of marriage, once the only other thing you thought of besides the mysterious forest, was now the very last thing on your mind as Mrs.Lancer taught you which berries and roots to mix into poultices.

Of course, that didn't stop many of the village boys veering for your attention.

And you knew it well, seeing as just yesterday you'd been accosted by one of the farm boys.

You had been gathering yarrow, humming under your breath, when the boy by the name of Mathis had slung an arm around your waist. He'd asked what a fine girl like you was picking at the ground, when you'd be better off learning to embroider.

‘Something something, finding a man, something, date.’ You hadn't paid attention to him, as you were much too busy trying to escape his grasp.

Thankfully your papa had swiftly entered the picture, all but dragging the farm hand away so you could continue on with your work. Sighing, and making a promise to yourself to bring your papa some lunch later today, you looked down to pick up your basket.

Only to grasp at nothing.

Brows knitted together as you look at the space where your basket of yarrow had been, you immediately assumed Mathis had taken it. But when you turned to watch your papa and him leave, he was only carrying a pitchfork. Lips pressed into a firm line, you look around yourself, hoping that you'd perhaps set it somewhere else nearby. Until you heard it.

A faint whistle. 

You slowly look towards the woods, chest feeling tight. Eyes widening, you spot a figure with their back turned….in their hand…was your basket.

"Hey!" You shout after them, brows furrowed as you quickly make your way after them.

The figure doesn't seem to hear you, though, as they continued along with a long purple coat fluttering after them. You can feel your cheeks grow red as you shout for them to stop, hands fisting your dress as you make a little progress towards them. Their whistle, once a soft melody, is now sharp in your ears as they seem to almost glide forward.

Doubt flickers in your chest as you reach out a hand, only to trip over your own feet and take a rough tumble onto the forest floor.

…forest?

As you try to catch your breath, it feels like it was yanked out of your chest just to slow seep back in as you curl your hands into fists against the ground. Panting almost a little too harshly, you don't dare look up. No, you keep your head to the ground even when you hear footsteps approach you. Biting your bottom lip until it's bloody, you let out the softest sigh through your nose. You take notice of the shoes in front of you- wait.

Eyes comically wide at this point, you feel blood slide down your chin as you see long, jagged legs before you. They are not unlike a spiders' legs with the ends of them ending in spindly purple points that dug into the earth. You mutely watch the strange legs shift silently in place, and then your basket lands by their 'feet'.

Nothing happens after that. You can only hear the sound of your blood rushing and harsh breath. It grows unnerving, after a while; waiting for something to happen. But the 'feet' remain in front of you as you slowly- and most foolishly- turn your head to look into the basket.

Warning bells were going off in your head as you looked inside to see...yarrow.

Your yarrow. The yellow and white flowers are noticeably untouched with only the slightest hint of disarray amongst them. Forcing your breathing to slow, you close your eyes and count down from five.

"It's not nice to steal from others." You manage to get out, your voice calm in ways that you were not. 

The individual- whether it was one of sentience or just a hyperly aware beast was unbeknownst to you- does not offer a reply, simply shifting on their legs a bit. You feel more unnerved from just the motion itself rather than anything you've experienced thus far. Still, you continue on despite receiving no response.

"If you're either sick or injured, I'm sure I could have gotten you the healer," you say pointedly. You push yourself up so that you are now sitting up on your knees, your eyes focused on the ground in front of you. "Really now, do you take joy in stealing and making a girl chase after you?" 

Steeling yourself, you lift your gaze to see…

.....oh.

The figure in front of you is tall and somewhat stocky, but still built in a way you can't understand. You take quick note that it was currently bleeding from an arrow sticking out of their side, but you can’t stand to look at their body much longer. When your gaze reached their face… well, their face was far more interesting. 

Spider-like in nature, it had a great maw framed with golden finger-like projections. Looking closely, you’re pretty sure that there were eight eyes looking at you- actually, you can only see six, as you imagine the final set of eyes were hidden by a brilliant yellow visor. Still, having their eyes all trained on you has you almost stumbling over your words, but you keep going.

"Well? Are you going to say sorry or not?" You prompt, eyes narrowed.

This finally gets a response: a sickly giggle bubbles from the persons' throat, before they hiss softly, a hand going to clutch at their side.

"Girls like you shouldn't be chasing people you don't know," they chide, their voice sounding fairly light, "And they definitely shouldn't be making demands." 

You glare at it. Them. Whatever.

"You're the one that stole from me!" You almost shout, holding back from poking it in the chest. "And you took me into the forest. So apologize!" 

The person just let out a wheezing laugh, as if this was the funniest thing they had heard in forever. "What if I just ate you instead?" they supplied, their golden facial projections shifting. 

Against your better judgement, you cross your arms over your chest, scowling at the creature before you. "You should have done that before. Now you're just going to have to deal with me making my demands and give me my things back." 

If what you had said before was funny, what you had just said now had the spidery creature trying not to double over laughing. Their laughter subsided as they regarded you once more with their numerous eyes. "Who says I couldn't just do that now?" they asked, moving closer as if to do just that. 

"Because," you counter with a smile now, brow raised as you take a single step back, "If you do try, whose not to say the person who shot you won't hear me if I scream?" 

It was a daring thing to say, you knew. The creature in front of you had eight legs, but with a quick scan you could tell they had more than just that arrow sticking out of their side.

"Now," you say, ignoring the way they looked as if it was weighing the odds of simply lunging at you and ending your life. "Let's make a deal like reasonable people."

That definitely catches their attention, projections shuddering as they give you a once over as well. "Oh~" They croon in their reedy voice, "And what could you give me in exchange for your life, if not for the very flesh off of your bones?"

You suppress a shiver of fear and quietly congratulate yourself for not flinching, bringing yourself to stand a bit taller instead. 

"I doubt someone like me would make for a good meal. I haven't even bathed today." It was somewhat embarrassing to say, but you went on. "I'm a doctor, or at least on the track to becoming one. I can tend to your wounds, and then you can let me go." 

The spider person makes a show of thinking it over. Despite the fact that their strange face and numerous eyes left little room for expressions, you get the impression that they're smirking at you.

"And how do I know you simply won't go off and bring a mob with you back?" they ask, and honestly, it's a good question, too.

"Because!" You fire back, rocking back on your heels. "I try not to deceive people who promise not to eat me, let alone try to bring about their demise... So," you pause as you hold up your pinky finger, "I pinky promise not to run off and bring a mob with me. As long as you promise not to eat me AND give me my yarrow back." 

The person gives you a perplexed look, but reaches out to wrap its spindly pinky around yours- only to hold off at the last moment, its finger caressing the side of your own.

"And what if I choose to go back and eat you after you heal me?" they ask, a figurative brow raised as they look you over with each pair of its eyes.

You narrow your eyes, brow furrowed, and quickly link your pinkies together. The spider creature was taken aback as you pulled it down towards you, bringing them closer to your face. 

"I'm holding you to honor this sacred bond," you hiss, your voice stern and your eyes fierce. "No matter what the situation, I'm not one to leave someone in pain, even if that someone stole from me and looks like what a cat would spit out after chewing up some grass. All I need is just a bit of time to collect some supplies and then I can get to frickin’ work, got it?" 

A weighted silence hangs between you, each of you sizing up the other. Then, the person’s projections quirk in a way that resembles a smirk as they lean forward. "Fine. But hurry back, human. I know where you live~" 

A bubble of anger boils under the surface of your mind, but you nod and manage to snag your pinky back from theirs. Taking a few steps back, you give them a very stern look, "Hide somewhere near the edge of the forest where I can see you, alright? I'm not one to go stumbling about, so you best wait for me near dusk. My Momma and Papa are probably kicking up a fuss right now because of you." 

The person gave a loud sigh, even as they had to clutch their side after words. "What a demanding creature you are," they grumble, but you can tell they'll do as you say as they pick up the basket once more and limp off. They look over their shoulder to smirk at you once more, calling back, “Don’t keep me waiting, little fling~”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh as you slowly turn away from them. A wash of relief fills you as you see the forest edge not too far from where you were. Now all you have to do is carefully sneak back out and hope no one asks where you've been. Especially not either of your parents.


	2. Enter the Huntsman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta as always, Cieltee22 <3

It’s a blessing that you remain unseen by anyone as you exit the forest, even as you find yourself trying to brush the dirt from your dress and discreetly seach your hair for any wayward sticks or leaves. Thankfully, you come up empty-handed as you let out a sigh, only now feeling the throb of your elbows from the rough tumble you had taken at the strangers’ ‘feet’. Patting off your dress a bit more forcefully, you could tell that your knees were probably in a similar state as well. It was going to be a bother explaining yourself not only to your mentor, but to your parents as well.

And then there was the whole mess with who you just met back there. While you had promised to heal the stranger, you cannot bring yourself to get so caught up on their appearance... at least, not while they are around.

That stranger had been a giant arachnoid, much like what your papa had described Centaurs to be, except you know...spider instead of horse. But those were supposed to be tall tales parents told to scare their children into being good, not that it ever worked on you. You weren’t expecting to actually run into a Centaur, let alone whatever the hell that creature was. You had once asked what kind of Centaur it was in your Papa’s stories. Was it bigger than a regular horse, or about the same size? Could they look like Maximillian, your papa’s horse? Of course, your papa answered every question you had, as your momma gave him a scolding look from the kitchen as she prepared dinner. 

Never in a hundred years were you expecting a spider! A spider that was almost larger than a horse, at that! And yet, despite that you were unnerved by how they had appeared, you still can’t get over the fact that you made a promise to heal the strange creature. There wasn’t much else you could really do as you made your way to the healers’ house, hoping that your mentor wouldn’t question why you needed a healing salve, bandages, and some willow bark.

“______!” You let out a yelp in surprise, the call from your mother ripping you from your thoughts. Twirling around, your wince once again as she is suddenly upon you, ready to start scolding you with eyes showing a bit of fear as she gives you a look over.

“Where were you?” Momma demanded with a softening voice, taking in your cringing expression and your scratched up elbows and dirty dress. “What happened? You look like you were dragged behind a horse!” 

You huff at her words, blushing in embarrassment. “It’s nothing.” You assure her, lightly tugging away. 

“Then why do you bleed, child? Did someone do this to you?” Ah yes, there was that look your mother got when she was about to bring out her broom and wack some sense into somebody.  
Just as you were about to reply that you had simply been spooked and hurt yourself, you hear the beginnings of chatter from the village square. It thankfully saves your from your mother’s prying eyes, as she sighs and tugs you towards the noise. 

“Oh, what are they going on about now?” She sighs, tugging you the rest of the way to the healers house, only to pause in her steps. Wincing as your knee gave a small throb, you turned to see what she was looking at- or rather, who she was looking at.

Without even looking at his sigil, you can tell he’s one of the king’s Hunters. They all have that ash-white hair and tan skin, but the only thing different about this one was the large black patch that mostly covered the right side of his face, and the pale blue eye that seems to have a shadow over it as he spoke to the village judge and sheriff. It wasn’t the first time a Hunter had come, nor the second, but even you were surprised that the King would send another to try and kill the beast that lived in the forest.

Still, the man is nothing to be bothered by, but you can already tell he’ll be the talk of the village. More importantly, the available village girls. Holding in an exasperated sigh, you lightly tug away from the grasp your mother had on you, seeing as she’d be equally distracted by such an important person.

“I’ll be at the healer’s, momma.” you say as you press a quick kiss to her cheek and just as quickly left. 

It wasn’t that you had anything personal against Hunters, it's just...well. Hunters were a dime a dozen, and a lot of them came into the field inexperienced. Most of them wanted to prove themselves to the King, or to others. You were frankly surprised that very few of them died. They also tend to boast about their feats; the last Hunter you’d talked to wouldn’t stop going on about the Cyclops he had killed. And stories like that simply weren’t your cup of tea, especially when a Hunter had drawn out the fight to a point of cruelty.

Entering the healers’ house, you thank the Gods that your mentor was nowhere to be seen, most likely wrapped up in the talk of the Hunter as well. That was all good for you, you think to yourself, grabbing your rucksack from the hook on the wall. Setting it down at your workbench, you start to wrap pieces of willow bark in the bandages, as well as mix together a healing salve a little more forcefully than you should.

You knew why you were agitated all of a sudden. It was stupid, and you blamed it on the fact that you couldn’t help but be interested in things that others would shy away from. Your mentor had commented that it was a good thing that you never got queasy when you had to stitch someone up or drain out pockets of infection from old wounds. You needed to be strong mentally to be a healer, and they hadn’t been joking when you had to perform an amputation once.

You cared too much, your mentor had told you more than once. Perhaps that was why you worked harder than necessary, especially when it came to helping others. The stranger in the forest was a monster, one that was most likely the beast that took girls as brides and gobbled them up. They’d made that much clear when they had looked at you as if you were their next meal. The smart thing to do would be to tell the Hunter of the beast waiting for you at dusk. 

Instead, you were packing things to take the arrows from their body, giving them another chance to eat as many sacrifices as they could. You weren’t a killer, or a Hunter. And you were sure the creature would go back on their promise, and eat you just as you healed them. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to report what you saw and go off on your merry way.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you brace yourself on the table and close your eyes.

There were two things you could do in your situation, and you’ve already thought of both of them. But you knew the one you were going to pick, because you hated nothing more than breaking a promise to someone; even if that someone had the potential to kill and eat you.  
Even if that person has been eating women from your village for years.

Gods, you needed new morals. And fast.

After taking a moment to calm yourself so you could resume your work, you startle as the door to the healers opens with a click. Heart in your throat, you twirl around to see your mentor… and the Hunter and Sherriff not far behind them. You tense as your mentor turns around, jumping a bit themself as they look at your form. 

“Child, what have I said about lurking?” Ms. Lancer says, sighing as she gives you a scolding look.  
Giving her a look yourself, you snort.  
“Twenty is hardly a child, don’t you think?” You say as you turn back around to pour the slave into a small jar and twist it shut.

Your mentor snorts at that, watching as you place the jar into your rucksack. “Some helpless creature again?” She inquires with a tut, “And for yourself too, yes? Your mother will have my head if I don’t fix you proper, child.” 

Biting your cheek again, you lean on the table as Lancer takes a good look at your scraped elbows. You could feel the stare of the Hunter boring into your skull, as the Sheriff simply sighs. 

“You’ve better not have some poor animal you’re trying to heal,” he chides, hands crossed over his chest. “You can’t change the course of nature, girl. It’s better to just let the poor thing die then to have it get hurt again the next day.” 

You hold back the glare you want to throw at him, and force a smile onto your lips as your mentor applies a healing slave to your elbows.

“Well,” you start, and you can feel the warning look Lancer is giving you as you continue, “I think we’re both lucky, then, that I’m not healing a deer this time. That hound that’s been coming by recently has an injured back leg, and I just want to see to it. Unless you’d rather the village be down another hunting dog.” 

The sheriff sighs, shaking his head. The Hunter, on the other hand, simply gives you a look that could pierce through your chest if it could. You blame it on his blue eye, and the overall cold demeanor that he gives off.

“And you need that much willow for a dog?” You mentor mumbles, but it's only a whisper as the Sheriff starts to talk to your mentor about something or other.

You pay little mind to the conversation, mostly because it was the same one as when the last Hunter had arrived. It wasn’t like this Hunter would survive any longer than the last one. He’d rush into the forest at dusk, after a few days his mangled body would be found by the Sheriff, and then the whole process would be started once more. Even though you sounded cynical, it was hard not to after the state you had seen the second Hunter had been in. His body had been almost torn in two, lower intestine splattered on the ground and jaw torn completely from his head. 

You’d only known this because the Sheriff’s apprentice had come out in not much better shape than the body, his eyes haggard as he retold what he had seen. It must have been truly frightening, as you’d had to give him a sleeping tonic for several days after. You weren’t very surprised when the boy had chosen another profession after that. Jack wasn’t exactly known for his strong stomach, after all.

You were drawn from your musings as your mentor wrapped bindings to your elbows, only to take a step back when you noticed the Hunter was still looking at you. The Sheriff sighed, mumbling something, before introducing the two of you.

“This is Hunter Prowl,” The sheriff said after saying your name. “He has important work to do, so please don’t go scaring off this one, girl.” 

It took everything to not roll your eyes at that, but also at the ‘name’ of the Hunter. Prowl, of all things? You knew they took different names to service the king, and to hide their identities, but _Prowl?_ At least it wasn’t Stealth or something like Barricade. But still, it just sounded silly.

Prowl nodded at you, his one eye never leaving yours until he and the Sheriff departed.

“Now that those two are gone,” your mentor began, poking at the supplies in your rucksack, “mind telling me why you have so much willow bark? I’m sure you don’t need two slabs of the stuff for that dog, unless you plan on putting the poor thing into a coma.” Even if such a thing was impossible, you could get what your mentor was getting at. 

“He has some friends in a similar state,” you supply, but even that sounded weak compared to your mentors’ look. She just let out a long sigh, taking one of the slabs from your rucksack. Shoving the rest of the bandages back into the sack, she turns towards you.

“I might be a fool for letting you do this, so please don’t get caught,” your mentor says sternly, but you could tell the fondness in her voice was genuine.

“If I am, the dog was in a lot of pain,” you say to her, giving her a small hug to thank her as you leave for your house with your rucksack.

O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O

Your bruised knees felt a little better after being cleaned, the salve cooling on the scapes as you laid on your back in your bed. Turning your head towards the window, you knew you only had so much time before you could go out and heal the stranger you met. Even with the knowledge that this...creature could very well be the thing that has been terrorising your village. 

But something had been bothering you the more you thought about that. When you had first seen the remains of the last hunter, you would have found yourself hard pressed into believing that the stranger fit the bill as to what had killed the poor man. There was blood, and definitely intestines, but the wounds from your mind's eye look far more like a pack of wild animals than to a maw and claws of a spider.

Indeed, there had been large bite marks, far larger than the sharp maw of the stranger. And while you were sure their claws could do some serious damage, you knew that the hunter hadn’t been killed by them. There also hadn’t been any webbing, and the bite marks didn’t look as if any possible venom would have been injected. It looked like whatever had killed him, was something else entirely.

And wasn’t that a fun thing to think about, that there was something far more dangerous than a spider-taur lurking in the forest?

Sighing, you close your eyes and decide it’s better to sleep and let your arms and legs rest up a bit, then figure out a way to sneak out undetected. Especially when there would be Prowl to worry about. Even with one eye, you knew better than to underestimate him, or any Hunter; no matter if they sometimes got themselves killed in stupid ways. Your papa would be out with his friends at the pub later in the night, and your mother was a known early sleeper- as well as a deep one- so the only thing you had to worry about was Prowl seeing you-- or anyone else in the village out for a midnight stroll.

Not that many did things like that, but you could never be too sure. Especially when the sheriff possibly told Prowl to keep an eye on you. Sure, you were always the odd one out, but you had a feeling it was because you were one out of three girls who still haven’t allowed anyone to court you yet.

But that was another problem for another day. Right now, you had a stranger/dangerous creature to heal.

Brow twitching at the thought, you look out the window once more and close your eyes to rest once more. Even if this was probably more stupid than trying to patch up a deer in your youth, you hoped this would end better than the bruises that had lasted for weeks on your chest from your last endevor. 

You hoped, at least, that the stranger would make good on their promise and let you go… And give back your basket.


	3. At Night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for beta-ing, Cieltee22!

You hadn’t realized you had nodded off until you were suddenly roused from your sleep when you heard a harsh rattling by your window. Covers bunched up underneath your hands, you wince as you swing your knees to the side of your bed and sit up. 

Your breath is stolen from your lungs as you see a pair of spindly legs reaching up to brace themselves on your window. By the dimming of the sun, you could tell that they were a deep purple- the same as the stranger’s coat!

Sending up a blessing to the heavens above, you thank the fact that your house was at the edge of the village, and that your widow faced the forest. Still, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed as you scramble out of bed to go over to the window. You double check that your bedroom door is closed before you throw open the window, turning to face the stranger.

The stranger had lifted themself up to perch closer to the sill, bringing their upper body close to be leveled with your own. A shit-eating grin is soon plastered to their face as they register that it was you answering the window.

“What happened to waiting in the forest?” you hiss at the creature, your hands reach up into your hair and pulling it lightly in frustration. “Do you want to die?”

The stranger just gives his reedy chuckle in response, and you can hear the rest of their legs digging into the side of your house, causing a hopefully unnoticeable racket on the wood. You pray to the Gods that neither the Hunter nor your parents notice what's happening, as you reach over and grasp one of the stranger's hands, immediately tugging it.

They caught on quickly and proceeded to try and figure out how to wedge their body through the window. You have to back up a bit and brace the window as they try and squeeze through, only for their body to pop into the room, throwing you back and causing you to trip. 

Or almost trip, as the stranger quickly grabbed you by the waist.

A moment of stunned silence fills the air, the two of you looking at each other in equal bouts of surprise. Until the stranger’s expression turned into one of a smug smolder. Your face starts to turn red with anger as you swat at their hands and quickly step away. Running a hand through your hair, you cast a glare at them.

“Oh, come now, my little fling, you promised to heal me~” the stranger purred, their hand coming up to clench at their still bloody side. Where....oh for Gods sake.

“Where are the arrows?” you demand in a hushed voice, going over to your rucksack and tugging out the healing salve and bandages. “Please don’t say you-” 

“I plucked them out, little fling. My body is vastly different from yours, but your concern is appreciated,” they say, stopping your words in their tracks. Their spidery legs click against the wood as they take a few steps towards you, “Honestly, that salve in your hand would be nice to have to finish up the job, so to speak.” 

If they were anyone else, you would be hitting them on the back of their head for doing something so reckless. But you hold yourself back and simply settle for poking them on the chest with a scowl.

“Okay, Mr. Vastly-Different,” you say, pushing them so that they would lower themself for you to work, “Then why do your wounds still bled, and why do you hold yourself as if you still ache?” 

You start to tug at the purple coat on their person and take in the damage on their side.  
While you didn’t have a good look before, you assume that their wounds look worlds better than they did in the forest; however, the irritation of moving about had started to cause it to bubble with blood and puss. Which was a very disgusting mix, with their blood looking light green and all, but you set to work all the same.You almost miss them saying something during your musings, only to be disturbed by a sharp tap on your shoulder as you had begun to wrap a bandage around his lower torso.

“It’s Tarantulas, my little fling. Tarantulas Avicula,” the stranger- now revealed to be named Tarantulas- says with a voice tinted with pain as you pin the bandage to their side.

You pause at that, looking up at them. 

“Well, my name isn’t ‘little fling’ or whatever it is you’ve been calling me,” you say, giving them your name as you pick up the salve and another bandage. Straightening up, you walk around to look at the wounds on his lower back. You give a wince at the arrow wounds, the puss and dried blood more apparent now. 

“You have a fancy name for...” you hesitate on what to say, but Tarantulas fills it in for you with a chuckle. 

“A monster? A creature of the Night?” they offer, smirking as they look back at you- Tarantulas doesn’t seem bothered by the names. “Yes, I do suppose I do. But I was a lesser being once, maybe even before you were born.” 

“Why do you say ‘lesser being’?” you inquire, not looking up as you tend to their wounds. “Were you human at some point?” It seems silly to ask, but maybe they were cursed- or cursed themself judging by their words. Tarantulas is silent only for a moment, until they snort. 

“Once, yes. I was a man, a scholar, a scientist,” Tarantulas says, their- no, his- thin lips stretched in a wane smile. “But I became better. I am better.” 

You pause at this, a small thoughtful frown on your face before you continue. “And you’re telling me this, because you plan on eating me…” you say with finality.

“Oh, yes,” Tarantulas replies, his voice dipping an octave lower, “You’re ripe for the picking, little fling. So naive and sweet, willing to heal a monster like me even if you die in the process.”  
His words do frighten you, of course they would, but you finish wrapping the last bandage and stay behind him.

“And there isn’t anything I can do to stop you?” you ask, your hands still on the bandage, fingers inching closer to the strange texture of his lower body’s skin. When your fingertips meet it...it’s odd. Almost like it’s covered in a peach fuzz, yet coarser than it looked. Tarantulas stills for a moment, but then slowly turns his body away from you. That was when you noticed your basket in his hand. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘anything,’” he purrs, his voice suddenly full of mischief. 

And that was a very red flag if you’ve ever heard one. Tarantulas is practically leering at you now, his eyes holding a gleam that spelled trouble for you. In a flash, you’re suddenly dangling off of the floor, Tarantulas’ clawed hand wrapped around your mouth and lifting you by the head. You let out a panicked squeak, your hands darting up to try and pull his hands away; it was like pulling at iron bars, his grip was so strong!

“I was first interested in you when you chased after me,” Tarantulas began, grin wide as he watched you flail in the air, “No one ever chases after me, for I do the chasing, dear little fling.”  
He spins about and tossed you onto your bed, his larger body quickly covering yours as he presses his maw to your neck. You struggle to break free but he holds you down firmly, his fingertips digging into your cheeks.

“I thought, ‘how fascinating. A rabbit willingly following it’s doom?’ Either you were stupid, or just naive.” Tarantulas opened his mouth, allowing something slimy to rub against your throat.  
You feel the need to yell welding up in your chest- but as you go to suck in a breath, you’re suddenly winded as Tarantulas pushes down on your chest, forcing the air in your lungs to gush out in a gasp.

“No, no,” he whispered, “I found you to be far from being naive. Stupid, yes. Oblivious to the dangers such as myself; very much so. But still very...very far from being naive.”

“Yet you seemed interested in what I could give you,” you manage to whisper with what small breath of air you could draw in, “In exchange for my life.”

Tarantulas pulls back, thin lips still stretched in a grin. He rests his up body on top of yours, its weight just enough to weigh you down. You’re pretty sure it was enough to make your bed let out a weak squeak. 

“You aren’t the first to make a bargain. So…” Tarantulas makes a show of licking his lips, “What can a doctor offer me?” 

‘A lot of things.’ You thought but you’re not that thick-headed to think that sass would be welcomed. “Y-you say that your body is advanced, but your wounds are slow to close,” you start, your voice becoming a little bit stronger, “There is a Hunter in the village right now. And I’m willing to bet he is the one that hurt you.” 

Tarantulas lets out a low hiss, his fingertips- dare you say claws?- dig into your cheek a bit more, but you keep talking.

“I can heal you. Y-you can keep me for as long as you want as your personal doctor, but you have to do something for me as well,” you say, your words coming off as a quick ramble. 

Tarantulas snorts, but his eyes rove about your body before meeting yours once more. “Tempting. It would be nice to not have to rely on that fae anymore…” The spider looks away, but his gaze quickly turns back to your sprawled body. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised you think you can get something from me, even if I could kill you right here and now.” 

You can’t help but swallow thickly as the hand at your face loosens, trailing down your face only to wrap loosely around your neck. His other hand dangles your basket lazily above your head- something that makes a frown appear on your lips as you look at it. Steadying your breathing, even if you’re sure he can hear your heart beating a mile a minute, you speak.

“Take me as your bride,” you say suddenly, your voice full of confidence. “I can offer you more than just being a one time meal. You say that you are a scholar, so perhaps I can help you find a way to make your body even stronger, so that you heal faster.”

Tarantulas is frozen above you, his feeling of surprise plainly seen on his face. You watch him think it over, weighing the pros and cons. 

“I’ll admit,” he says after a moment, “I expected you to scream, call out to someone to save you. But…offering to be my bride of all things? Whose to say I don’t already have one?” 

His words echo in your mind, bringing a wave of shock to wash through you. You swallow, your eyes comically wide as you process what he said.

“You mean to say,” you start, “You aren’t the one taking brides from my village?” 

Tarantulas looks as if he is holding in a cackle, his eyes narrowed as his body shakes. “Goodness no!” he says, his voice giving off a mused tone, “Gods, no. I’m not the idiot who takes ‘brides’. I stopped working with that lunatic eons ago.” 

This throws you for a loop. 

“What do you mean? I thought...you aren’t?” you ask, leaning forward, or at least as forward your trapped body would let you.

“No, I’m not the monster terrorising your village,” Tarantulas clarifies. “That would be Overlord. And trust me on this, that name isn’t just because of his giant ego.” 

Had you been in a more casual setting, perhaps one where you weren’t being held down by a weird spider-man, you would have laughed at this. Instead, you’re still trying to get over the fact that he wasn’t the lead you were expecting in order to solve the brides’ mystery.

“But, it would be nice to have a doctor around, a bit on the apprentice side, but I’ll take what I can get at this point.” Tarantulas says, voice final as he finally eases himself off of you.

“And…” He pauses dramatically, looking at you with a seemingly hungry look, “I suppose having a willing bride would be nice. I hope you’re good at cooking flesh~” With that, Tarantulas slowly scuttles back, his spindly legs moving away from you so you could sit up on your bed. He fixes his cloak to once more cover himself before fixing you a gleeful look. 

You feel very overwhelmed and turn your head to hide it from his gaze. What have you just done? Why did you say you’d be his bride, of all damning things? Are you really just that stupid?

You take a moment to compose yourself before you finally let yourself look at him again. “So, when can I expect you to fetch me?” you ask, and you don’t miss the way he perks up.

He hums something under his breath, but he turns back towards the window all the same.  
“Two days, two nights. And you best make good on your promise and not go squealing to that Hunter, otherwise I will find you… And I will kill you.” 

Well, there goes plan A. You nod solemnly, watching as Tarantulas smiles and gives you a wave. You’re a bit surprised at how he suddenly makes it through the window with far more dexterity than he did when coming through earlier. You can hear him scurrying down the side of your house and away from it, the rustling of grass growing softer the further he goes.

After a few moments, you let out a sigh before you turn to look at the basket on your bed. 

At least you got your yarrow back.


End file.
